


My pillow won’t tell me where he has gone.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-13
Updated: 2010-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The breakdown is the effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My pillow won’t tell me where he has gone.

They left the stadium together after the game — Junta had let his catcher take him home because Kazuki had insisted that he shouldn’t be alone that night and Junta himself wasn’t sure whether he _wanted_ to be alone. The car ride back was a sullen affair, with Kazu in the front seat and Junta slumped in the back, leaning his head against the passenger window. Junta wasn’t up to talking and Kazu couldn’t find the right things to say.

  
“Take a shower first,” Kazu said, as soon as they were alone in his room. “I’ll wait for you to finish.” His pitcher wordlessly complied. It was hard for Kazu to resist the urge to go in after the younger boy, just to make sure that he would be all right. He ended up pacing about instead, and stopping close to the door to listen to the sound of the water running. A full hour passed before Junta finally came out, with his head bowed and his fists clenched.

  
“I’m sorry. I’m… I’m just really, really sorry.”

  
“Stop with that already,” Kazu softly returned. He took Junta by the shoulders and peered down, trying to meet with the pitcher’s gaze. “We lost as a team. If there’s anyone to blame, it would have to be me.”

  
Junta only mumbled and shook his head; a moment later, he wrapped his arms around Kazu’s neck and pressed himself against his catcher’s body, as though he wanted to tuck himself away from sight. When he trembled, Kazu sat them both on his bed and gathered what he could of Junta into his arms. The younger boy’s skin was cold to touch.

  
They shared a bed that evening — it would be the last time they would ever fall asleep in each other’s arms. Sometimes, in the nights to follow, Junta would curl up in his own bed and hug his pillow, to better breathe its scent in and try to remember what it had been like to smell Kazu on it.  



End file.
